"Hmm," pondered Qiao Xiaon'an, "When we're in our seventies or eighties, you'll likely still be spry. But me? Probably full of wrinkles, grey hair and maybe I won't even be able to walk."
"Really?"
"Amo, promise you won't repulse me when I'm old."
He doesn't say anything nor promise her anything for the future, instead letting a contented chuckle seep from his nostrils.
He then wrapped his arms around her even tighter from behind, unwilling to let go, as if he was looking forward to growing old together.
After a while, he twisted her towards himself and observed her delicate features under the twinkling firework lit sky, imagining how she would look with a face full of wrinkles.
He couldn't help but laugh at the thought.
Qiao Xiaon'an lightly pounded his chest with her small clenched fist, "What are you laughing at?"
He chuckled again, saying, "You'd look pretty unattractive with wrinkles."
Qiao Xiaon'an didn't get angry at his remark.
Because she knew, he was joking.
